


Defective Lieutenant

by Draycarla



Series: Defects [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood As Lube, Burned corpses, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Addiction, Dubious Consent, Haxus/Hepta - Freeform, Heavy Angst, Hepta/Sendak - Freeform, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Mind Break, Murder-Suicide, Object Penetration, One-Sided Attraction, Past Relationship(s), Psychological Torture, SHEITH - Freeform, Snuff, Stockholm Syndrome, Unreliable Narrator, clone thinks hes Shiro, well a possibility of snuff but tagging for safety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 09:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/pseuds/Draycarla
Summary: “Commander Sendak has been found dead. I thought I should let you know.” Ladnok stared at him, and he offered a curt nod.“Thank you, Commander.”“Hepta,” she started, “know that the High Priestess will make sure the Paladins pay for this.”“How did he?”“Are you sure you want to know?”“Yes. Please, Ladnok, tell me.” He offered a softer look at her, and she took a sharp breath in.“You won't like what I have to say.”-Hepta doesn't take Sendak's death well. At all.Kuron becomes the focus of all of Hepta's feelings, and the Paladins are going to pay for everything they've put Hepta through.They stole his love, his obsession, his god from him before he could let Sendak know how he felt.





	Defective Lieutenant

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: HEED. THE. TAGS.  
This fanfic is probably the darkest I have written and will ever plan on. It's worse then the previous one imo. That's because this was the original concept. Hepta loses his shit, and I wanna say thank you to the three of you on discord who've been absolute lambs about reading my snippets for this. If you're here to give me shit for this problematic piece, then turn your ass around and leave it because trust me, I know.
> 
> Tagged for snuff as said to be safe. One sided attraction relates to: Hepta/Sendak and Keith/Shiro.
> 
> I felt sick writing this fic at times, and just...fucking hell. I've been procrastinating I gotta admit because it just got a bit much. This series is complete. Honestly? I won't blame you for quitting out of this if it's too much. Take breaks, because there's no comfort. It became longer then I imagined. Good luck, dear readers.

“_Commander Sendak has been found dead. I thought I should let you know.” Ladnok stared at him, and he offered a curt nod._

“_Thank you, Commander.”_

“_Hepta,” she started, “know that the High Priestess will make sure the Paladins pay for this.”_

“_How did he?”_

“_Are you sure you want to know?”_

“_Yes. Please, Ladnok, tell me.” He offered a softer look at her, and she took a sharp breath in._

“_You won't like what I have to say.”_

Hepta hadn't liked what she had to say. Not one bit. He may have listened to her, but inside his blood boiled to the surface. They ejected him. The right-hand to the Emperor, cast out into the desolate bleakness of deep space. He'd asked if Haggar had checked his mind for any details, but nothing could be dredged. Apparently he looked peaceful. The pods glass had been struck. It was compromised. A silent death had taken him. Perhaps that was best, the idea of the Commander fearing and struggling in his confines before his final death throes consumed him would reduce him to tears if the fires of his wrath didn't supersede that. Perhaps one quintant he could mourn Commander Sendak. His inspiration, his love, his obsession. Stolen from him before Hepta could make him truly understand how much he meant to him. What he would do, allow, _become_. All for him.

Would Sendak have truly wished to die so peacefully? He scolded himself for such presumptions.

“Forgive my impudence, Commander,” he muttered to himself, gripping the front of his armour, “you would have fought to the bitter end. Victory or death. You would _never_ allow yourself to die without resistance. Only in a blaze of glory. It is the only way you can go.” Hepta stared down at his prosthetic hands, clenching them tightly together, the glow of the flames bathing the metal almost blood-red. He had no blood on these hands, not unlike the subject, the lost Champion. The creature that spread it's thighs and lured his Commander away from him. _That thief_. It was the only one capable of such a thing. The only one that harboured resentment towards Sendak – would dare _betray _him. After everything Sendak did, only the whorish worm had the capacity to crack a cryopod. The others were too soft and weak from what images he had seen. It probably used the gifted arm. He loosened a low growl. Of course it would use it's gifts, just like it used Sendak for protection, how it _abandoned _them.

He swiped at his nose as the acrid smoke caught in his throat. He could smell and taste burnt flesh and melted fabric. It made him sick. The only bonus was that Subject Y0XT38's remains were unrecognisable at this point. To truly roast the subject until nothing but ash remained, he needed a better fuel source. Perhaps letting it return to dust was too kind. Perhaps he should just add the pile of dead technicians, broken sentries and droids on top. Let twisted metal and Galran flesh taint the forgery even post-death. He felt his lips tug upwards, the malicious glee coursing through his veins.

“It all burns the same.” He rose from the empty metal shell of the sentry he'd broken in his anguish. It made an uncomfortable seat. He considered the popping embers. Yes, he would need more fuel.

This death felt more hollow then the others, he thought, as he dragged the sentry and tossed it on top of the corpse. He'd removed it from its tank and just struck the unconscious thing until he heard what could be described as an almost arousing crunch. The technicians seemed alarmed at what he'd done.

They wanted to talk to him without his blaster.

They screamed at him when he explained.

At least when they stopped, they listened.

He took the silence as agreement.

He was a lieutenant, and they should show him the proper respect afforded to that position.

It was quiet, serene, _peaceful_ here now. Only the thrum of machinery and creak of the facility. He glanced upwards, the creaking would need to stop soon, the machinery ruined the silence.

“_I'll put in a good word for you,” Haxus inclined his head at Hepta as they settled in the officer's lounge, “I am looking to make Commander myself, and I know you'll enjoy working under him. He does demand full loyalty.” The grin was all teeth._

“_He'd have my undivided loyalty.”_

“_I certainly know that.”_

“_Is he not coming tonight?”_

“_No,” Haxus placed down his drink and flopped back in the seat, “he is with Champion.”_

_His ears twitched, “again?”_

“_Yes. He has become a bit too fond of him, if you ask me.”_

“_That doesn't sound like him at all. To be interested in something subgalran.”_

“_Perhaps I read too much into it,” Haxus glanced at him, “but Champion does not seem to fear him any longer. The Commander, he asks for him in his quarters more frequently for longer stints,” Haxus rubbed his eyes, “and he does not indulge me like he used to.”_

“_Perhaps he has other things going on,” he curled his toes in his boots to still his shaking thigh, “and it is an act to have Champion comply.”_

“_That is what I hope.” Haxus nudged his drink towards him, “drink up, let us enjoy this time together.”_

They never found his body. What the paladins had done to Haxus, he could only imagine. Again, he prayed that he had fought valiantly and earned a true warrior's death by the blade. Anything short of that was an insult. With a grunt, he tossed the corpse of a technician onto the pile. Only a few more to go, then Hepta could return to his plaything.

This was Subject Y0XT39, the final clone that remained. Hepta had to make sure this one counted; that he had all the fun he possibly could milk from it before just like all of it's forerunners, it was slated for termination by his hand. He had hunted them through the detested corridors of the facility, injected them with aphrodisiacs or lethal dosages dependent on his intentions, berated and debased them in all the ways his mind could consider, watched them bleed out slowly or give them an abrupt end. But now, now he could not find the desire to watch the fear upon it's face blossom at realisation of it's fate.

Not now that Sendak and Haxus were gone from this universe. Stolen too early. Sendak passing before he could truly know Hepta's feelings. He would never be able to run metal fingers through the fur, never arch his back as he rode the Commander. Never beg him to let him orgasm. So many things he wanted had been taken from him, either by the subject's original or the paladins.

The humans and Altean parasites needed to learn what their negligence had wrought upon Subject Y0XT39. They had left it to rot, they had left it to die over and over again.

He had been wrong.

The epiphany struck him like being shot through the chest.

The subject wasn't innocent, but it had been confused. He understood it, understood _everything! _It would never have abandoned them – abandoned the Commander – because it was clear that the subject _thought _Sendak had loved it. In fact, Sendak would've just pretended to! The Champion, a creature of such a bestial race, had been coming around. Then the traitor had stolen him. Then the other humans, the Alteans...they _forced _him to stay and fight them. They _forced him _to kill Sendak, but he had tried to offer the Commander a kinder death! He could only try and please his master. Of course he should have died alongside Sendak, but he was never fully indoctrinated. Hepta laughed, clutching his sides. Oh, how stupid and blind he had been to it all! Of course, of course! He let his head fall back, his own laughter echoing in his ears. The parasites were taking advantage of his nature.

He was always told he could be too gullible.

They also whispered he was a sadist.

He was just like any good, proud Galra.

What did it matter if he enjoyed the suffering and misery of others?

This was likely why he had felt stirrings, perhaps. It's face elicited the occasional pang of something. It was the ones that tried to please him in desperation.

It wasn't desperation or fear. No. The subjects that did that recognised him as it's better. How it fell into place so neatly. It was why the disgust curdled the bile in his gut, because his body knew the truth before him.

Not a logical fallacy in sight.

Hepta let his head fall forwards, staring at the pile of bodies.

He would find the fuel and watch the pyre burn.

He would get a link to the paladins.

He would pick back up where Sendak had left off training the Champion. He would make him such a good subject.

Then he would show the paladins what happened to those who were so disloyal to their leader.

-

He felt like he was slowly sinking into concrete, limbs heavy and unwilling to do as he commanded. If they weren't bound, he'd try and move them just to feel the blood flow; try and stave off the pins and needles he felt in his fingertips. He wished swallowing didn't burn, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd drank anything. His lips were cracked, dry, and stung every time he tried to wet them.

Time bore no meaning.

The Galra who kept appearing every so often hadn't shown up in a while. That was a godsend in of itself. His back, hips - _everything –_ hurt from the constant abuse; the reminder dried to the insides of his legs. Or at least it felt like it was.

He'd be lying though if he said the screeches and growls didn't bring him back from his own dance along the razor's edge of sanity. In this oppressively dark cell where voices whispered and shadows of shadows roamed, it was taking everything he'd ever trained for to keep himself sane. Name, rank, and number. Rinse and repeat. He wasn't sure if he was so desperate for contact he'd dropped any and all standards for the hint of something approximate, or whether the darkness had driven him so mad he thought he had sanity left.

The door opened, light blinding him.

“Subject Y0XT39.” The Galra strode over with confidence, uniform and hands stained red with blood as the lights of the cell flickered on. Shiro swallowed, fear bubbling and clawing in his gut and chest. He made the most pathetic attempt to writhe away in the binds.

“You don't need to struggle any more. I understand.” Their gait was like a predator, teeth like one too. The eyes Shiro couldn't dare look in to. There was nothing there but a frigid void, a black hole, some inescapable horror he didn't want to quantify.

“I understand that you wanted to be loved by the Commander.” Metal fingers brushed over his jawline, thumbs moved slowly either side of his eyes, stroking his skin so carefully.

“But they made you, didn't they? They made you eject him. They poisoned your little mind with ideas of grandeur; they gifted you Zarkon's lion. Did you know,” the Galra leaned so close he could see the pupils he was forced to stare at shake, “that you're both tools for the Galra?”

If Shiro's throat could make more then painful rasps he'd answer the question with one of his own. Any attempt to fight this guy had become painfully pointless during his first attempt. Being shot in the back of the legs didn't help either. He didn't like where those metal fingers were.

The smell that clung to him made him sick to his core.

Death. He smelt like death.

“It's okay, Subject Y0XT39, because I'm going to make everything better. You just need to be well-behaved again, just like you were for Commander Sendak. They wanted to send you away, back to them, but they won't corrupt you, I _promise_.” He brushed his nose against Shiro's. His body shivered reflexively, goosebumps prickling along his skin.

“I just need you to comply, I just need you broken. Just like he was doing to you, right?”

Shiro rasped as he shook his head from side to side, eyes blown wide. He wasn't sure if he was reliving memories or having dreams, but he recognised the name Sendak, and his mind could only associate it with warmth, safety, and Sendak's fiery desire to protect him. He made some variety of noise as the Galra stilled his head.

“You're supposed to shake your head the other way,” the Galra flashed all teeth as he coaxed Shiro's head up and down a few times, “look, you do agree.” The purr was heavy in his ears.

Shiro tried to scream. Where the _hell_ were the others? Why did this creep keep calling him 'subject', and why _the fuck _was he so preoccupied with Sendak? He'd made his choice to choose the Empire over what they had. If they had anything at all.

-

“It's nice in the warmth and light, isn't it?” He told Shiro his name was Hepta. Apparently they'd met twice. He didn't remember.

Hepta did.

In excruciating detail.

“If you hadn't been so difficult before I could have let you out of the cell,” Hepta tossed a large binder onto the pyre. Something creaked and the fire flared up. Shiro was trying not to think about what was in front of him. He was hoping the intense heat would melt his skin and brain.

Well.

Apparently it already had. Just on another him. Shiro was not inclined to believe it, but as he gauged the place he was in, all the tanks, he was unsure.

He wished he was back in his cold dark cell. It didn't smell like roasted flesh and burning wire.

Hepta really didn't need to add anything to the fire that burned in front of them.

Hepta shook a bottle in front of Shiro's face.

“You need to drink,” he tilted Shiro's head back into his short-furred chest, “otherwise you might dehydrate and die.”

That was horribly appealing, but he had to get back to the others, somehow. Shiro swallowed, he had to stay strong. It was hard to when those dead pupils stared through him. Clawed fingers pushed into his mouth as the lip of the bottle was pressed against sore lips.

“Drink,” Hepta purred.

Shiro tried to drink what he could. The rest ran down his chin and across his naked chest. It dried almost instantly from the heat. Hepta didn't allow him to wear clothes. They got in the way.

“Such a messy creature,” Hepta mused quietly, dragging his claws along the drying trails and leaving bloody lines behind, “you spilt it.”

“I-I'm sorry.” Shiro stammered out.

“You will be.” Hepta nosed his face again and stood. He grabbed Shiro's arm and dragged his body across the metal floor. If he could use his legs, Shiro would have.

-

“T-This can't be real.”

“It is,” Hepta purred, nuzzling against the side of Shiro's face, “that was Subject Y0XT21. I was lucky to find a record of this one. At the time that face there? That annoyed me, that's why I did that.”

“B-But he...you...” Shiro's voice splintered, “no more! Fucking hell _no more!_” He grabbed for the metal hand around his cock, desperate to remove those cold fingers, desperate for this sick depravity to end. If he pissed Hepta off enough then hopefully, _hopefully _he would kill him. Fuck staying alive if it meant having to endure this. He was certain Keith would make a great Black Paladin because there was no way in hell he was going to be mentally fit to do anything after this. Not like he was real either.

He was a copy.

A clone.

The thirty-ninth one who was supposed to go back to Voltron. To do what? This?

Why couldn't he prise the fingers off?

Why was Hepta just sat there doing nothing?

Why was he doing this?

This was why the others hadn't come for him. Maybe they knew about the clones. Accepted the real one was dead.

“Who am I?” He let his hands fall away from the metal wrist.

“Subject Y0XT39.”

“No. Who am I?”

“I just said.” There was a hint of a growl.

“Am I Shiro?”

“No. Just a clone. Nothing, really.”

“I'm nothing?”

“Nothing.”

He pushed himself away from Hepta, noting he'd paused the data pad on another violent end. His pupils flicked over the Galra's naked body; his erection leaking precome. He was disgusting, vile. No. No words could really capture the feelings he had.

Subject Y0XT39 grabbed his data pad and threw it against the wall. He pawed at his own head and just screamed. Hepta couldn't understand why it needed to do that, but he was pleased with one thing.

He knew he was nothing.

That meant he was broken. Hepta could start fixing him. He grabbed the subject by the legs, still useless, and dragged his body back to the point Hepta could easily bury himself inside if he pleased. The subject screamed and tried to wrestle back, and it just made him harder.

“I'm pleased,” Hepta purred as stroked the inside of Shiro's thighs, “you're so _broken!_ All mixed up in there,” he pressed himself on top of the subject, poking him in the forehead fondly, “but you had to be really bad, throwing things around. I don't like that. It's broken now, but like you, it can be fixed.” The subject just screamed incoherently back, pupils so contracted like scared prey. Hepta felt himself shudder.

“You know what I need to do now. Just let go, _enjoy it_.” He ignored the noises the subject made as he pushed himself back up, spreading him wide open. He'd be reopening the tears again, but the subject had to learn somehow.

-

Hepta had recently started busying himself with something that would leave him for hours alone. At first he relished the time, but it quickly faltered to the point he was terrified Hepta wouldn't return and he'd be stuck, locked in his quarters to die slowly. Kuron, the name of the project he belonged to and that felt like an apt name by this point, was getting better at dragging himself around at least. It was good to do, especially since Hepta had been leaving him needles of quintessence on the counter top in the bathroom. He was grateful for this kindness, because as he steadied the needle against his arm, soon Kuron was going to reach a blissful high where all the pain just disappeared. He'd feel warm inside for the first time in hours, maybe? Everything was cold.

He licked bruised lips, voice cracking as he injected the glowing liquid into his artery.

A few minutes.

Instant high.

It 'helped' in the loosest sense of the word when Hepta would come back and fuck one of his orifices.

At least he wasn't fucking an empty eye socket. Yet. The quintessence hit came like a wave, washing through him and flooding his core with warmth and bliss. He didn't stop the tears escaping as he sobbed. It felt like a release.

If only Hepta left more then one. He'd see how much would kill him.

-

“You're hair's so long, Kuron,” Hepta yanked it, snapping his head back, “and your skin looks so much better now it's all clean.” He sunk his teeth into Kuron's bottom lip, before hoisting him back into his lap. Kuron moaned out, pushing himself further down Hepta's length.

“So good. You know who you serve, don't you?” Hepta bit into his ear, pressing teeth so hard they broke the skin. He needed to make sure that didn't get infected. Kuron howled but still tried to fuck himself on Hepta's cock. With a warm laugh, Hepta grabbed his waist, rolling Kuron's hips in time with his thrusts. Gods, he had the most fuckable ass in the universe. It was all his. Kuron was _his_.

“Who do you serve?” Hepta slammed in harder.

“You, Lieutenant!” Kuron's front fell forwards, but he caught himself with his hands. What a clever creature. That was why Sendak wanted to break him, make him useful. Hepta loosened a long purr as he came up to his knees and forced Kuron down into the filthy bedsheets.

“You're my favourite fuck, the best one out of all the clones.” Hepta raked his teeth across Kuron's shoulder. A sultry laugh made his ears prick, and he glanced up to find a grey pair staring back, all glazed over from pleasure.

“Thank you, sir.” Hepta grabbed his hair again, pushing him face first into the sheets. He was going to come so fucking hard from that.

Reforming was a lot easier then it sounded. Kuron was doing so well. Especially when he begged for Hepta to make him come, and Hepta did so love to see him painted in his own seed. He always got such a good reward afterwards.

-

“Prove to me you weren't trying to contact them!” Hepta snarled. Kuron struggled in his grasp, trying to mewl out some excuse. He was so fucking _angry_, so _betrayed_! Grabbing the hand blaster that was out of Kuron's reach, he dropped the worm to the ground. He twisted metal fingers into those long, beautiful white strands, and tugged his head back.

“Open your mouth!” He sneered, back-handing his face with the metal. Kuron's eyes leaked. There was blood from somewhere on his forehead. Through all the shivering, he opened his mouth. Those pupils twitched up at him.

“Suck this like you do my dick.” Hepta's eyes narrowed as Kuron offered a small jerk of his head, sniffing pathetically. Still, he did as he was told.

Hepta pulled the trigger.

Then again.

And again.

And again.

Then twice more with an ever-increasing laugh as he snapped the muzzle back and forth into Kuron's mouth.

Of course he pissed himself.

Hepta removed the blaster and ran his fingers over the spit-slicked metal.

“I've already shot you through the back of the throat, and really it's just so messy. You know not to do that again, right? You're mine now. They can't hurt you, no, they _won't_ hurt you any more.” Hepta leaned down, tilting his head at the shaking creature.

“Now be a good boy and come here.” He dragged Kuron backwards and let him fall to the floor. They'd fucked only a varga ago, so he would still be loose enough. Hepta crouched down, shifting his legs slowly apart, and slowly eased the muzzle in. With his other hand, he took hold of Kuron's cock and started to languidly jerk him off.

“Be grateful the blaster isn't loaded, because one wrong word and I'd shoot the load inside you.”

Kuron replied with some garbled noise and stilled.

“You're being so good for me, Kuron. Now apologise.”

“I-I'm sorry,” it was almost inaudible.

“Sorry for what?”

“For t-trying t-to contact them.”

“Good boy.” Hepta gave him a lazy smile as he continued pushing the blaster in and out. Kuron was trying to stifle the filthy noises he knew he should be making.

Kuron had said he never left the room – that he couldn't – but Hepta _knew _he was lying.

-

Hepta couldn't fix the data pad. Kuron had broken it beyond repair. It was a shame.

Nonetheless, Hepta had managed to retrieve the data he wanted from it. He was watching it now, chewing on some food he'd found, while Kuron lay curled up sleeping beside him like a good pet.

He was sleeping a lot these quintants.

He was also injecting a lot of quintessence as well judging from the pile of discarded needles pushed into a corner in the bathroom.

He better not be behaving for quintessence, because if this _filthy parasite dared try to use him-_

No.

“No, Kuron wouldn't do that. Kuron's a good pet, a good boy.” Hepta tossed the device to the side and carefully nudged the human over to his back.

“He's very good. You're very good. Just like you were for the Commander,” he smoothed the long white strands away, rubbing the rough hair against the sides of his cheeks, “at least I could fix you and now you're back where you belong. Sendak would be so happy that you're here, he'd be so proud of what I achieved breaking you down.” Hepta settled on top of his hips. Kuron stirred awake, blinking slowly up at him.

“L-Lieutenant?”

“He's so precious when he wakes up. Sendak will be very pleased to see you like this. I can present you to him, and then maybe...maybe,” Hepta shivered and pulled the filthy blankets up over them both, “maybe he could love both of us.” He whispered. Kuron blinked again, but stilled when Hepta came down to take a kiss. He pushed Kuron's hands above his head, the clone relaxing underneath him.

“You're so good for me.” He pushed a knee between Kuron's thighs as he bit into the pallid flesh. Kuron rolled his hips like a good whore and groaned.

“Since you're the only one who has memories of being fucked by Sendak, I demand you fuck me like that.”

“Can't move my legs right, Lieutenant.”

“Then I'll have to ride you.” Hepta sat back up on his haunches, and shifted Kuron until his back rested against the head board. He settled himself between Kuron's thighs, stroking his semi-hard cock to a desirable firmness.

“Order me,” he breathed, looking up into a bloodshot set of eyes. Kuron stared at him for a long moment, pupils wandering until they settled back on him. Something colder lurked in there. He shivered in anticipation.

“Open your mouth.”

Hepta did as he was told as firm hands guided him down, arousal flaring in his groin until it was agony as the hotness touched his lips. He shivered and pushed himself as far as he could in one go. There was a groan above him. He was doing so well already!

“Good,” the hands moved under his ears and pulled him back along the length, before snapping Hepta's head back down, “lets build up a good pace. Tell me-” He was breaking character, so Hepta ground his teeth in. There was a hiss of pain above him. Sendak would never insinuate he _cared_ about the one receiving. They had to be worthy to begin with.

Regardless he built up a pace that had moans and whispered curses fired off above him. The hands gripped hard, Hepta's cock screamed to be touched and he whined and ground against the naked thigh to create some type of friction. The thigh jerked upwards, knocking him off his rhythm.

“Off.”

“Off?” Hepta sat up, wrapping his arms around himself. What did he-

“Lieutenant,” he glanced as Kuron's metal hand stroked the spit-slick cock, “if you're prepared then-”

“I'm prepared! Please, _please. Fuck me_!” Hepta threw himself forward, shifting his legs either side of the hips. He'd been wanting this for so long. Pressing himself forwards, he angled the cock against his own hole and eased himself down.

“Relax, relax,” he told himself, ignoring the sharp burn. There was a hiss and a groan.

“I'm glad you enjoy this. I want the burn, please.”

“As you wish,” Metal fingers curled around his hip, “you know what to do.”

“Yes sir, sorry sir.” Hepta groaned, placing his hands against the head board. Warm fingers curled around his cock as he pushed himself back down. The burn was so good, feeling the little twangs of pain shoot through him.

It felt like Hepta was going to shatter his hips at this rate. Every plea to stop fell on deaf ears. His cock hurt from being forced in. It was painfully tight in there and he just wanted Hepta off. He couldn't, he just had to ride this out while he wanked Hepta off again. The Galra above him stuttered out Sendak's name like a chant between thrusts, hips jerking erratically and cock twitching in Kuron's fingers. His body slumped forwards, smothering Kuron with his full weight. He stank of blood, come and Kuron's own sweat at this point.

He was certain the stench of the fire still clung to him.

That stench of death.

Hepta was going to herald the end of his fucking days.

That wasn't a good thought to have when Hepta just fucked so hard he came. Days, weeks, who knew at this point, worth of build up.

Usually he liked orgasm.

This felt hollow, wrong, cold.

Kuron was a defective clone, and as he watched Hepta spill such little seed over his stomach, he realised his Lieutenant was also defective. His mind buzzed like angry wasps as Hepta kissed him, purring deep into his mouth in that heady way he sometimes did.

“Did you enjoy it, Commander?” His eyes looked so hopeful, so full of adoration, full of possessive need. All of this over a ghost of a lover Kuron's body never knew. From the memories, what transpired here was not comparable to how Hepta used him.

Termination was required.

-

“You need cheering up,” Hepta pinched Kuron's nipple while he rotated the needle in his other hand, “it's quintessence, your favourite.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“I'm allowed to,” Hepta puffed his chest out like he'd been praised, “because you need a reward for being so well-behaved.”

“All I did was help you, as instructed.”

“Don't be so modest,” Hepta tracked the needle to where all the other injection marks and bruises sat, “you helped me set up a way to bounce the transmission.”

“S'okay,” Kuron licked his lips, breath catching, as Hepta injected the quintessence into his blood stream. Soon, soon.

“I can also fuck you too.”

“Can you?”

“Yeah,” metal fingers traced down his scarred chest to rest over his abdomen, stroking the skin affectionately, “see I'm allowed to.”

“Okay.” His body was flooded with a sunny warmth as the quintessence took him, and with heavy eyes he watched Hepta pull another needle out. He injected himself in the hip and settled over Kuron chest.

“I'm going to cover your body in my come.”

“Where first?”

“Your face.” Hepta shuffled up, rubbing his cock against Kuron's bruised and cut lips.

“I'm yours, Lieutenant, to do as you please.”

“Yeah, and I like doing just that,” Hepta blinked slowly down at him, pupils catching his own, “now just open wide for me, kay?”

Kuron did. Kuron would do _anything _for his Lieutenant.

Anything that meant he didn't have to hurt or feel or think. The warmth of the quintessence was good. It eroded his reservations away like the sea does the shoreline.

“Fuck me up.”

“You already are, Kuron.”

* * *

“Paladins, it seems we're getting a transmission. Who from...I can't say I recognise the planet, or the code for that matter.”

“Is it a distress call, Coran?”

“Not too sure, number five. Princess, should I open the frequency?”

“Of course,” Allura smiled, “as the Paladins of Voltron, we need to be there for anyone needing assistance. Especially now Lotor has made his presence known.” Her lips thinned, before giving Coran a nod.

Pidge glanced down at the transmission code again. There was something odd about it. It reminded her of _something_, but what was escaping her mind right now. Her attention was yanked away from her thoughts at the sharp gasps and cries of the others, Lance especially.

“You're Galra?! How did you get this frequency!?” Allura all but seethed, glaring up at the smug-looking Galra, his pupils flicking between them all in turn. He was naked from the neck down.

“Scum and parasites, _I am charmed_.” His lips curled upwards cruelly, “I have some questions for you.”

“How did you get this line? There are no bases-”

“Shut up! Shut your filthy mouth!”

The atmosphere in the room became tense. Too tense.

“Good, good, don't talk unless I tell you, yes. You're a princess of nothing, nothing but the dispersed dust of your dead people.” The Galra muttered, again glancing between them all, “your fathers death is celebrated as a fucking milestone. Filthy Alteans. I should kill you, finish the last pair off. Kill all of you, return Voltron to Zarkon-”

“Zarkon's dead! We – Shiro – killed him!” Keith spat, moving towards the screen, “who the _fuck_ are you?!”

“Red Paladin. Hey, what's his name. Kuron, hey, Kuron, stop sucking dick for a tick get up here.”

“Do I have to?” _That voice_.

“C'mon they'd love to see you, I bet.” Keith didn't like the feeling in his gut, and considering the look from the others, Lance especially, they didn't either. He sucked in a sharp breath when this 'Kuron' was hoisted up into the Galran's lap, metal hands possessively clutching a bruised chest littered with scabbed cuts and scars.

He had Shiro.

He had the man he was always chasing in his dreams or reality there; naked, filthy, in his metal hands _toying _with him. Those beautiful grey eyes were bloodshot, glazed over. He looked sick, not all there. Saliva and something else smeared the side of his lips. Hair long, messy, stubble.

He never wanted to find Shiro like this.

“S-Shiro?” Keith crumpled, eyes trained on the monitor. It was the only thing he could see, focus on. Those grey eyes locked with his, Shiro's lips twitching as if to speak, until a lewd noise came from his mouth, head lolling backwards.

“Keith.” Shiro replied finally.

“Good boy, Kuron. You're so good for me, aren't you?” The Galra _kissed_ him, before his face hardened back at them all.

“You will answer my questions, because trust me, parasites, I am being _so very kind_ right now.”

“Give us back Shiro, and we might let you-”

“Might let me _what_, meaningless scum? You see, Kuron, how can they care about you when they just stand there and wind me up? Which is that one?”

“Lance, Lieutenant.”

“Good boy. Lance, is it?” The Galra scowled down at him, eyes flashing dangerously, “you will tell me two things. How did Haxus die, and why you manipulated the original into killing Commander Sendak. This,” Lance followed his quick metal fingers as they tapped away, before shifting Shiro around, his head facing away from them, “should prompt you to be compliant.”

“There's a video file.” Pidge narrowed her eyes as she quarantined it, scanning for any viruses or malware. She's been forcing herself with shaking fingers to try and locate where the fuck this transmission was coming from, because this was fucked up. The whole bridge was a thick air of disgust, fear, and disbelief. She was trying to avoid the screen. Not Shiro, they'd get him back.

They weren't losing him again.

They had lost too many.

“Sendak and Haxus?” Allura answered slowly, “the Galra who tried to run off with my ship?”

“That's _Commander_ Sendak and _Lieutenant _Haxus, parasite.” The Galra sniffed, lacing metal fingers around Shiro's throat, “play the video, because you don't want to make me angrier.” For emphasis he squeezed Shiro's throat. With a nod to Pidge and then Coran, Allura stiffened as it came up on the monitor.

-

Hepta watched with unbridled glee as their faces twisted and contorted. All the emotions they must feel. Confusion, shock, realisation and then the sinking horror and disgust. The large one with dark skin emitted a cracked sob and drew inwards, fear painted upon his soft and weak face. He couldn't help but lick his lips. That one, that one would be wonderful to torture. The human vomited. How disgusting.

The Altean scum were distraught; caught in the terror of seeing one of their own, or so they thought, treated so badly.

“This is your fault.” Hepta snarled.

There was no reply.

This human, Lance, was crying like the large one. Hands covered his mouth like he would be sick. Such an ugly display for something that would look so pretty bound and gagged. It looked meek. A good play thing. It would be nice to set Kuron upon him to ravage his body. A good dose of quintessence and aphrodisiacs. A proper little receptacle if he ever saw one.

The boy, Keith, was visibly shaking. He couldn't see his face, shrouded in hair, but this one...oh, _oh _did Hepta wish he could see his face. This must be the Paladin with a strong link like the reports had mentioned. This one could understand his suffering. This one would break, and then him and Hepta would be kin in suffering and loss. He felt his cock twitch at the thought, and brought a free hand down to Kuron's flaccid cock. The need to toy with him had come again. Now he had a captive audience.

He almost missed the small one, hiding behind a terminal. Like the others, tears were in its eyes, a look of repulsion and rejection of what was in front of it upon their face. Silly thing. It was real. It was all so very real.

“He suffered, he really did. Clones though, they don't really feel a thing.” Hepta mused as he watched Kuron writhe, “this one does. He was the best clone of the original. He had so much potential, but I saved him from his job of killing you all. You should thank me, and to do that you should tell me, what happened to Commander Sendak and Lieutenant Haxus.”

“Haxus fell to his death.”

Hepta stilled his hand as he whipped his head up.

“No! He would never-”

“I faced him,” his eyes locked in on the small one behind the terminal, angry tears framing an angrier face, “and he slipped and fell.”

“Pidge! Don't go telling that psychopath that! What if he hurts Shiro?” Lance shrieked.

“He wants us to tell him! I wanna save Shiro! What else are we supposed to do?!”

“SHUT UP!” Hepta roared, smashing a metal fist down on the desk in front of him, “Haxus would never lose to a child like you! You're a liar, a filthy little liar!”

“I'm not lying!”

“I promise you, Pidge is not lying!” The Princess interjected.

“Lies! All of you are liars! Next you'll tell me you don't know anything about the Commander?” Hepta's eyes flicked between the gathered. How he hated the scum, these _Paladins_, these children playing soldiers. Spitting to the side and one hand grasping Kuron tighter, he furiously struck the keyboard and sent the remaining videos, before setting Kuron down on the desk in front of him, pushing his head back for the scum to watch.

-

“Don't you dare.” Keith glared up at the screen, feeling betrayed at how cracked his voice sounded. He had to be strong for Shiro, for everyone as Black Paladin. The Galra paused, metal fingers pushing their way into Shiro's mouth.

“I will do as I please with that's mine, Keith. Why? Did you want this? Did you want to have him under you? Listen to him beg and cant his hips? Did you want to bring him orgasm? Taste his come? Maybe, maybe you wanted him inside you, filling you? You'd like that. You'd be jealous, I've seen that, made him experience it. You never will.”

“We'll get him back-” This bastard's words wouldn't rile him, they wouldn't. He may have _thought _about Shiro like that, but how did he _know_? Who _was_ this guy?

“No, no you really won't.” The Galra offered them all a large smile as he pulled out two very long syringes. It looked like quintessence.

“See, little paladin, I know what it's like to lose someone you love and adore, you know, someone like a god. His memory, the original Shiro, Champion, whatever you wanna call him, was all implanted into this mind. Galra technology and science at it's best. We know about you – all of you – scum. So I know, that the original would never of killed Sendak willingly.” The Galra tugged Shiro's arm up, running the tip of the needle up and down his forearm. Shiro keened, eyes fluttering closed like somehow this was enjoyable. He gasped when it was injected.

“See, the original and the Commander were intimate. He was breaking the Champion down to be of use to us, and I have continued his work. Look at him now, so much _better_. So which one of you was it? Who among you corrupted what my god was purifying?” Deranged eyes focused on Keith as he spoke.

“It was you, wasn't it? Filthy whore of a half-breed.”

“None of us did anything,” Keith paced forward on legs that could cave at any given second. He wanted to tear his eyes away but _couldn't_. He couldn't leave Shiro – this _clone_ – like this.

“Really? You all claim you did nothing? What about the only honest one amongst you? Child, you,” he pointed at Pidge, “tell me the truth.”

“K-Keith's right. None of us,” Pidge swallowed back the bile but it wasn't receding, “we didn't know. Shiro never told us.”

“Then you are a liar, as I thought.” She brought her eyes away from the screen to stare at her hidden one. _Come on, come on. Why's it taking so long to find the source? _Whatever he was doing, he'd hidden his tracks well. Almost like he knew- oh no. _Oh shit._ If what this lunatic had been raving about, and if the clone had-

“You used him. You...you son of a fucking bitch!” Pidge screamed, rising from the terminal, “where the _fuck _are you? Why don't we settle this? You against me, for him!”

“Oh, silly little child,” the Galra crooned, injecting himself with the other needle, “you hear that, Kuron? They think I'll bargain with them, the little terrorists. You go and kill the love of my life, you take my friend, kill my people and try to murder my Emperor,” he leaned over Shiro's body, wrapping metal fingers around his neck, “and now you think I'd be willing to fight you? Let you take _even more_? You all lie, you all _think _you're doing a good job trying to save the universe. Oh, I promise you you'll fail! They'll fail, Kuron, they'll fail! No decency, none at all to tell me the truth!”

The Galra broke down into hysterical laughter, the corners of his eyes glistening with tears as he leaned over Shiro's body, roughly kissing him with a purr.

“Ten dobosh's. It'll be over in ten dobosh's.” His toothy grin seemed to grow wider when they realised he'd just pushed into Shiro.

They couldn't mute or cut the transmission in fear they missed some crucial details.

They knew Shiro had been cagey about Sendak, would demand to see him alone. If there was any truth there then maybe...maybe...Keith remembered how at one point during their first fight, Shiro was unavailable on the comms for a few minutes. He put it down to it being ten thousand year old machinery. Now...now.

“I'm going to the Black Lion.”

“To do what?” Lance whipped his head around, tears rolling down his cheeks and eyes wild.

“We gotta find Shiro! Pidge, Pidge c'mon, please say you have something!”

“I'm trying, Keith, I'm trying! Come _on_!” She punched the terminal, the only way to express her broiling rage. Keith could see the angry tears streaming down her cheeks. Knew that between them they would tear this Galra apart. Knew that they'd tear any Galra apart after this.

Shiro meant the universe to him, but the others loved him too.

He'd been there and done so much for all of them.

And even if he'd died, this Shiro was worth saving too. He'd do it over and over again. That spark was dead in those grey eyes, but Keith'd bring it back. They'd all bring it back one way or another.

“Allura, can you prime for a worm hole?” Keith tore towards her.

“Y-Yes,” she could barely respond.

“I'm gonna save him. Pidge!”

“Got it, Keith!” She snapped back, teeth grit as she hammered her fingers against the terminal. With that he took one last look at the screen, rage in his eyes.

-

“You!”

Hepta glanced up from his position buried within Kuron to see Keith.

“Angry half-breed. Those eyes look good on you.”

“I am gonna find you, and when I do, I am going to _fucking kill you_.”

“What a threat! Seven dobosh's, better hurry!”

“Shiro! I'm coming for you, I'm gonna get you outta there-”

“Shiro's dead! His name is Kuron and he's _mine_! Run you little parasite, run and find your fucking lion! Try and get here in time!” Hepta snarled, tightening his grip around Kuron's throat.

He briefly glanced at the timer. Self-destruction would commence soon. Then they could be rid of this place, this life. It was all Kuron's glorious idea after Hepta had told him about the bombs he'd been planting around the complex to stop the thrum of the systems annoying him. They'd tested part of it, watched some of the facility drop away. It had been a total success and in celebration he'd rode Kuron for being so good for him.

Just like now. Kuron was always so good.

“Sendak will be so proud of me.” He whispered, snapping his hips forward as he absently dragged metal fingers across his shoulder, watching the blood trickle in their wake. Kuron replied with a moan, attempting to spread his legs wider. Hands drew up, gripping hold of Hepta.

“Yeah, he'll be so happy-”

“-because you're just how he'd want you?” Hepta's pupils blew wide at the due praise. Kuron gave him a wide toothy grin, the deep shadows under his eyes making them look even darker.

“-because he'll get to gut you like a fucking fish for ruining me.” He felt Kuron's legs move for the first time ever. Kuron yelled out as he clawed his hands, grabbing Hepta's throat in his prosthetic and yanking his head to the side.

-

“Got it! Keith, Keith! I'm patching the co-ordinates through! Allura!” Pidge all but screamed. She didn't know where Lance and Hunk were, but that was irrelevant now. Shiro, Kuron, needed them. She locked her gaze on Allura as she focused with whatever willpower she had left. She was pale. They were all pale and felt sickened to their very cores. Four dobosh's left. It was going to be tight. She swiped at her eyes as she watched the Black Lion barrel through the wormhole, not even fully open. The castle ship moved, following. Kuron would need immediate medical attention.

That was if they made it in time.

She shook the thoughts from her head. Keith would make it. If there was one thing he was good at, it was protecting Shiro.

-

_Where is it, where is it? _Keith could barely contain his anger as he searched for the base. This planet was too bright. He was here. His hands curled tighter around the controls, as if punching the throttle and leaning forward would urge Black on quicker. His hands were shaking with rage, and his caught reflection looked like it bordered on a madness akin to that Galra's.

“Keith you need to hurry!”

“I can- I see it!” He smashed his fingers against the biorhythm scanner, growling as it took it's sweet time.

“I have a pinpoint. I'm going in.” He took Black into a steep nosedive, the controls rattling in his hands as he dove. “Form jaw blade!”

“Keith! You have to hurry! It's gone nuclear!”

Keith didn't know what that meant, but he'd get there. He had time. Black felt it too. Felt Shiro in trouble. His gut plateaued to a state of deep fear and desperation.

-

Kuron managed to backhand the blaster into the side of Hepta's skull. The screech rang sharp in his buzzing head. He didn't know what possessed him to fight his Lieutenant, but something had stirred, and he knew that he should.

Hepta should've kept their intimacies private. That was probably it.

“You're betraying me? After everything I've done for you? What will-”

“He's dead. He's dead and he's not coming back. We're not coming back.” Kuron turned the blaster at the display and pulled the trigger.

They didn't need to see this as he brought it back round at Hepta.

“He loved the Empire more then he loved Shiro.” Kuron took a shot at Hepta's knee.

Sweet revenge. The scream so satisfying in his ears.

“He wanted him to join them to take down Zarkon. Sendak couldn't. His pride,” and Kuron loosened a hollow laugh, “got in the way. Shiro couldn't go back. He didn't mean to eject him. It was an accident.”

Kuron took another shot at Hepta's opposite leg. Enjoyed that scream just as much as the first.

“I see why you liked doing this. It's...therapeutic, isn't it?” He tilted his head to the side as he pushed himself up on very unsteady legs. They were weak, too weak to carry him far. Hepta wasn't that far away. It was fine.

Two dobosh's left.

The facility shuddered. Metal screeched somewhere above them.

Kuron dropped down over Hepta's chest, pushing the blaster into his mouth. The bastard had the audacity to cry.

“Tch. You're scared?” He tilted his head to the side, pushing the tangled mess of strands from his eyes, “pathetic. Sendak wouldn't even _pity you_.”

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Kuron raised the bloody blaster to the side of his skull and pressed the warm and wet muzzle against his dirty skin.

“Detonation in one dobosh.”

That was the first warning he'd heard.

He heard a mechanical whine behind him.

“Shiro? Shiro!”

“I'm sorry, Keith.”

Bang.

-

“Shiro!”

Keith lurched up, hand outstretched and grasping at nothing.

It took him a moment to register where he was.

“The Black Lion managed to get to you before the blast but,” he looked around to find Allura stood there, her usual bright eyes dulled, “it has taken heavy damage.” He watched her clench her hands tightly together, thumbs fiddling with the fabric around the wrists. She was wearing pink.

“And-”

“I'm sorry, Keith.” Her voice cracked and she brought her hands to her face. “I'm so _sorry_.” With a swish of her dress she left quickly. Allura's sobs stabbing into his chest like hundreds of knives.

Keith had only ever cried at his father's death.

This was the second time.

It would be the final time he ever cried as he balled his fists into the blankets, digging his nails so tightly in he could feel the blood rise through the tiny tears of skin.

He would see to the fall of the Galra Empire himself if he had to. For taking Shiro away from them, there was no longer any remorse or forgiveness left.

He was certain the others would get behind his new leadership style.

Oh, he would lead Voltron as per Shiro's dying wish now with the biggest fucking smile on his face.

They would pay for taking the one thing he loved most away.

Keith couldn't help the tear-choked laugh that escaped his lips. Eyes twitching.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it to the end, I really hope you enjoyed it.  
I'd also probably suggest something fluffy as well, or something calming. Got some ambient music on.  
If anyone's wondering, two major songs I listened to for this fic were: The Lonely Deceased and Climatic Degradation, both Black Dahlia Murder songs. The former is a song about necrophilia and at one point it almost wormed it's way into this fic. That's a hardline no from me on writing, because fuck that noise. I probably could, but I won't out of principle.
> 
> I will confirm though that the Shendak was a good relationship. Sendak took really took care of Shiro and did genuinely love him. They both did. The problem was the Empire, and sadly that killed him in the end. In my head, Shiro would sit up on the observation deck and quietly mourn his loss on the castleship. It was sadly a PTSD attack just like canon. Sendak sadly couldn't save him from everything.
> 
> Thank you guys again, you're all stars. See you next time!


End file.
